


A Broken Doll In Slumber Lies

by Mukanshin



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Dark Knight (2008)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 14:10:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mukanshin/pseuds/Mukanshin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vaguely he wonders if it's possible to breathe life into a broken doll.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Broken Doll In Slumber Lies

****

**

A Broken Doll In Slumber Lies

**

****

It's been weeks since it's happened. 

Since that night that had him jerking awake in a cold sweat, panicked and disoriented, his chest aching as though someone had reached within his being and torn everything important out. 

Leaving him incomplete and broken. 

He had never made it back to Gotham as quickly as he had that night. Sure he would find his city alight in flames. 

But Gotham was dark and quiet. 

Empty, as he was empty. 

Broken, as he was broken. 

He had searched endlessly. Every night for days upon days he would go out, combing every dark alley and desiccated building, hunting for any hint or shred of information that would lead him to the cause of his unease. 

Until finally Alfred took pity upon him. 

"Master Wayne, there's something you should know..."

That night, Batman's world crumbled around him. 

_...you complete me..._

Silently he slips into the cell. 

The empty part of himself stirs. 

Aches. 

The broken part of himself resides here. 

The Joker sits, slumped and unmoving in a darkened corner, shrouded by dark shadows. His legs are stretched out before him, his arms loose and hanging lifeless at his sides. 

Slowly Batman approaches. 

Kneels. 

Reaches out.

Hesitates. 

Completes the motion. 

His scowl deepens, darkens as Kevlar clad fingers brush through what was once long, dank green curls, now cropped close, hugging the contours of the Jokers skull and shying away from an angry, red wound which, refusing to heal completely, festers and weeps as though trying to draw out any evil the doctors may have missed. 

His attention turns to hooded, glassy eyes and gently tilting the madman's chin upwards he feels a flutter of hope at a flash of poisonous green, bright and alive. But it's just the light of the passing moon reflected in an empty gaze. 

There is no recognition, no spark of familiarity. 

_...you complete me..._

You see, the doctors, they couldn't wait. 

Couldn't wait to get their hands on the answer to Gotham's greatest mystery.

So they drugged him, cut him open, hacked at the promising pieces of his brain. Hacked until there was nothing left but a broken doll and nothing to show for their butchery. 

The Joker would keep his secrets. 

_...you complete me..._

Slowly a thumb trails over pale, chapped lips, trailing down to wipe at cool, damp drool and vaguely he wonders if it's possible to breathe life into a broken doll. 

He hesitates, but only for a moment. 

The emptiness in him calls out, listening for an answering cry, reaching blindly for its other half as he leans forward, breathing the madman's name against his still, parted lips, before leaning closer, completing the connection. 

And there is nothing. 

No spark. 

No answering call. 

Pulling back roughly he stands, the emptiness within himself growing, consuming, transforming into a blind rage of loss. The loss of something he never dared to acknowledge was a part of himself, that he wanted and now he could never have.

Not in truth. 

And not in denial. 

Jaw clenching he turns and leaves, wrapping himself in shadows against a new, dark impulse growing within himself to exact vengeance in-kind to those that once more took what mattered most to him in this world. 

_...you complete me..._

In the darkness of the empty cell, a broken doll stirs. 

_...you complete me..._

_"Bats..."_


End file.
